Harry Potter and Life on the Streets
by Kateen
Summary: An AU story, Harry has grown up in a world far removed from even the Dursleys. He finds trouble everywhere!
1. Chapter 1: Life on the Streets

Life on the Streets Chapter One "Oy! David!" Someone shouted from the other end of the alleyway, "Oy! Get your ass down here, boy! Jimmy ain't working!" Emerald green eyes flickered in disgust, turning a silvery depth of black emptiness, "Ah, Shit!" he grumbled, "I have to put up with so much crap around here, don't I, boy?" he asked the scruffy black dog who'd adopted him when he was about thirteen and hadn't left him since. The dog whined his agreement and David sighed, "maybe it's time I saw a bit of the world. Maybe I should be moving up, getting a new job or summing." He sighed as he met the baleful eyes of the dog, "alright!" he called back down the street, "I'm coming!" Although David himself had worked in the sweatshops until his fifteenth birthday, only a year ago, he wasn't allowed to show any sympathy to the other workers or he'd be 'removed'. His position was less than secure, and he knew it. He was used to it, however, and only did what was needed to survive without being taken out. Striding angrily from his 'desk' (an upturned box) he hurried down to the entrance to the area that was his responsibility. The dog didn't leave the box, not wanting to see what was about to happen. David strode angrily to the stuttering boy named Jimmy, "What's the problem, James?" he asked in a silky sweet voice, "is there a problem?" "N, N, No, sir!" Jimmy stuttered, "It's just. I, I was thirsty sir. It's very hot work, sir." Grimacing privately, David remembered all-too-well how awful it was to be working there without water, but he couldn't be too kind. "James," he said softly, "go and get a glass and a big bucket of water from the lav. Bring it to me and you can all have a quick drink, but if I get shit for it, you can be sure that whatever you get will be worse." "Actually, David," a cold, sneer said behind him, "it won't be. As you are leading our staff astray, I hereby remove you from our service." David turned around, finding himself face to face with his arch-nemesis, Esselte Larus. The two of them had been found around the same time, and put to work together - but they hated each other and couldn't work together. Esselte went out of his way to get David into trouble, much to David's disgust. They had been advanced at the same time, punished with the same punishments and treated exactly the same. Until Esselte realized that David wasn't playing his game anymore. David didn't seem to care about the punishments that were meted out to him; his eyes would glaze over through the beating, he would ignore the pain and he didn't speak to anyone. Esselte still took every opportunity to get him a further punishment, but was unsuccessful until recently - it seemed. "Oh, please, Esselte. You can't get rid of me. You aren't that superior." "Ah, David, that's where you're wrong. I was promoted this morning and, as of now, you're gone." David blinked, his emerald green eyes returning briefly from the blank depths before going a crystal clear blue, "Well then," he said with a cheeky grin, "I'll be off then, I was saying this morning that it was about time I looked for a new job." He smirked and walked down the alley, whistling for the dog and continuing down the path.  
  
David didn't know much about himself, not really. He knew David wasn't his real name, and April 24 wasn't his real birthday. He knew that his parents either didn't want him, or were dead, and he knew that he really didn't know much about where he came from. All that Spencer had told him was that he knew was that David had appeared in the middle of the street on April 25 and nobody knew where he came from or how he got there. He'd been 'adopted' and cared for until he was about three, and was allowed to start work in the sweatshops. At three, he'd been in charge of watching the others and making sure that they stayed at their desks the whole fifteen hours they worked, until he turned five and was sent to the desks himself. There, he'd spent almost ten years fiddling with the little pills as he packed them into tiny boxes, trying to fit ten into a box that carried five. He'd been whipped, beaten and raped hundreds of times, but he saw it as the norm. What do you do when you don't know that life could be better? 


	2. Chapter 2: Life on the Streets

Life on the Streets Chapter Two The boy walked cheerily down the street, his dog padding along beside him, "Well, boy," David said complacently, "do you have any idea where we can go? Not an orphanage, mind!" he said firmly, "I want somewhere where I can get a good job and some money." The dog whined at him and continued walking down the street beside him. David sighed, "I can read and write," he mused to himself, "and I taught myself simple mathematics. I suppose I could work in a café, but I'd have to look a bit more posh-like if I war to do that." He grimaced and decided to just follow the dog, who'd pulled ahead, and if they came across some posh clothes shop he'd grab what he needed. Both of them walked, Indian file, through the crowded streets towards the edge of town. David frowned, "Whoah, boy. Where do you think you're going?" he asked, "We live in London, buddy." Whining, the dog continued, and David shrugged, "I suppose a walk in the country would be a nice idea." he said finally, and followed the dog who seemed to give a smile (of the doggy variety). They didn't travel far, before the dog veered off the main road and into a driveway. David followed, tentatively, but assumed that the dog obviously knew these people. It was the strangest driveway he'd ever seen. The garden was barren in some places, but thick and luscious in others. The house itself was rather dull and boring, but David wasn't complaining. If the Dog knew the people, then it was more than likely they'd take him back and offer some food or something in recompense. The dog bounded forwards and David followed at a slow run, "I hope you know what you're doing, dog," he said quietly. 'huh' the dog seemed to say as he turned his face back to David, 'don't doubt me, David. I know exactly what I'm doing,' David rolled his eyes, 'sure thing, buster.' The dog began to scratch at the door, as though he was trying to get inside. David began to get worried, damaging the door could get him into serious trouble and he didn't want to deal with the authorities. Being placed in an orphanage was more than he thought he'd be able to handle. He began to pull the dog away, "come on, boy. You can't scratch the door. That's not polite, and you might get into trouble." "Oh, I don't think that'll be a problem," said a soft, friendly voice from behind David. He turned around to see a thirty year old man with a cheerful face smiling at him from behind a short crop of sandy blonde hair, "I think that I know this dog." "Really?" David asked, "He's been living with me for almost three years. Turned up out of the blue. He's made a really good friend." The man smiled, "That's good to hear. Padfoot is much like that. I'm Remus Lupin, by the way. And you are?" "David." "David.?" Lupin probed for a last name. "Just David," he said firmly, "will you be wanting Padfoot back, then?" he asked, really wanting to get back to town and look for somewhere to stay. "Yes, David," the man sighed, "I'm afraid I will. I was very fond of him before he left." The dog rolled it's eyes and padded inside, Lupin followed him, "would you like a cup of tea, David?" he asked, pulling the boy inside, "just give me a minute to get Padfoot set up in his bed again, and give him something to eat, alright?" David shrugged, "Sure." The older man disappeared around the corner that Padfoot had gone and after a few minutes he heard shouting, "Sirius, this is unbelievable! You can't just waltz in here and expect me to believe your stories!" "Moony! I'm telling you! It's him. Prongs' son!" "Oh, please!" the other man said, "We all know that he disappeared after he was dropped off at the Dursleys!" "Exactly!" the first man said, "Ask him how long he's been on the streets!" "But-" "What harm is there in asking some questions? The worst that will happen is we'll find out he's not who we think he is, and we can set him up somewhere and he can live his life free from any doubt." A man came back in, the one who called himself Remus Lupin, with a three cups of tea and handed one to David. "Here you go," "Uh, Thanks," David said, the word feeling foreign to his mouth, "Who's the third cup-" "Sirius. You haven't really met him, yet." David shrugged, "Yeah." When all three men were sitting down, Lupin turned to the other adult who looked quite haggard and ill, "David," he said, "This is Sirius. An old acquaintance of mine. He's staying with me for the moment. We, well-" "You reminded us of someone we knew," Sirius interrupted, "and we wanted to ask you a few questions, to see if you are him." "But wouldn't I know you?" David asked. "No," Lupin shook his head, "you remind us of his father, who died. The last time we saw this boy was fifteen years ago." David blinked, "I s'pose it's possible, then," he shrugged, "I appeared in the street mebbe fifteen years ago, on April 24th, nobody knew how though." The two men exchanged a meaningful glance and Sirius spoke up, "How did you get that scar on your forehead?" he asked. Shrugging, David sighed, "I dunno. I don't know anything except that I appeared on April 24 fifteen years ago, and that's been me birthday ever since. I don't even know me real name." "What!" "I don't know my real name. Spence gave me David coz he needed something to call me." "Can I see the scar?" the man called Lupin asked. David shrugged and pulled his long hair back, tying it into a loose pony- tail. The two men pulled back, "I'm going to call a friend of mine," Lupin said, "and he's going to find out if you really are who you say you are." "But-" "Just a minute," he said cheerily. David and Sirius sat in silence until there was a 'pop' and Lupin walked back in with two other men. One was old, with a piercing blue gaze and a longer beard than David had imagined possible, and the other was younger but had a sharp, sallow looking face with a pointed nose and extremely greasy hair. "David," Lupin said kindly, "this is Albus Dumbledore and Severus Snape, they knew the people we think were your parents." "Umm," David was beginning to panic, "look, I didn't mean to be a bother or anything. I really just followed the dog. He seemed to know where he was going, and I thought if this was his home then I'd better return him. I know how it hurts to lose something you love." Snape nodded sagely, "of course you would, Potter." "Yes, I'll be going now," David nodded nervously, "thank you for the tea, Mr. Lupin. Give my love to padfoot and if you ever don't want him, then just send him down Copelan drive and he'll find me." And the boy positively fled from the four men who stared after him in surprise. "Well," said Snape, "I never expected James' son to be quite like that." Sirius blanched, "you would never believe some of the things he's experienced, and done. I'm not surprised he's like this." Suddenly three wands were pointing at Sirius, "You should be in Azkaban!" Snape hissed. 


	3. Chapter 3: Life on the Streets

Life on the Streets Chapter Three David passed around the tray of coffees, having finally found himself a job where he earned enough to keep himself alive and in relative comfort. He didn't have to worry about being beaten, too often anyway and he had nobody except himself to care about. He was working at café de la morgain, a French café which served reasonable quality food and the best coffee in town. David was rapidly developing an addiction for coffee and quite frankly was getting bored. The job in the café wasn't interesting, but then as far as he knew - neither was his life. "Can I get you anything else?" he asked the table kindly. "Why don't you get yourself a cup of tea, David," said a kindly voice, "and sit down with us." David looked at the men more closely and realized that they were the four men from that house three weeks ago, "Uh, no, it's alright," he shook his head, "I'm still working." "Your shift ends in ten minutes," said the greasy haired one, "I'm sure you can spare us a minute." "My shift doesn't end until midnight, tonight," David said quietly. "But you've been working since it opened at seven, this morning!" Lupin said surprised, "that's exploitation!" David turned back to the table, "No!" he said fiercely, "I work these hours because I have nothing else to do, I can barely read and write and this was the only job I could find. All I wanted was enough money to buy a meal and rent a room. I returned your dog, so would you just leave me alone!" "But, Harry-" "Harry?" David asked, going pale, "that's not my name!" "You don't know your name!" Sirius said, "And this is your name. The scar on your forehead tells us it is. You were left with your aunt and uncle when your parents died, and they dropped you off in the street in the middle of the night of April 23, meaning you arrived on April 24." David, or Harry, blanched completely, "I think you're mistaken," he said quietly, "I have work to do." The four men sighed, "I'm sorry about this, Harry," one of them said quietly, "Stupefy!" Harry, or David, collapsed to the ground and they quickly disappeared with a 'pop' taking him with them and taking absolutely no note of the startled faces that were staring at them around the café.  
  
David opened his eyes and found himself staring at white walls, tightly contained in what appeared to be a hospital bed. He shrugged his shoulders and wriggled a little, to loosen the hold of the sheets. Immediately, hundreds of alarms went off and he grimaced, finally managing to sit upright and taking a good look around. It took less than thirty seconds for the elderly man with the white beard and grey hair to enter the room, a long pointed stick in his hand, "Sit down, Mr-.. Oh," David smiled, "I was just trying to get comfy," he said with a shrug, "it's not like you seem to be giving me a choice about being here, anyway." "We won't keep you here if you don't want," "It can't be worse than where I've come from." "Do I take that for an acceptance?" "Do I get a choice?" "There are always choices," "Yeah, that's why I'm sitting here," David said sarcastically. "You weren't exactly helping your cause by saying no," "I'm the one in the hospital bed to prove that either answer was probably as bad, no matter what I wanted," David sighed, "so can you get on with explaining why I'm here? Then I will make a decision, alright?" The old man nodded, "Yes. Now, where do I start." "The beginning usually helps," David supplied wisely. "Yes," the old man said slowly, "I myself have given that advice many times." "Perhaps it's time you started listening to yourself," "Perhaps," the man sighed, "well, I'm Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts. Now, to start at the beginning; Your parents, Lily and James Potter were students of mine here about twenty years ago. They were perhaps the best students of their time, both top in their classes and head students. "They fell in love and got married. You were a bonus that they were ecstatic about. Unfortunately, they were also being chased by the darkest wi- man of their time, who happened to be nothing short of lethal. They went into hiding, but were betrayed by a close friend and were killed. Somehow, as a child, you managed to defeat this man, and that made you famous," "So you know who I am because I'm famous?" "We know who you are because of your scar. That scar was on your head as a baby, when we dropped you off at your aunt and uncle's after your parents were killed. It was, and still is, shaped as a lightening bolt. Your aunt and uncle fairly obviously abandoned you, but we didn't find out until ten years later when we tried to send your invitation to this school. Our tests showed that there were two children living at the house, and we couldn't detect that you weren't one of them. "As such, when a friend of mine went to pick you up and discovered you weren't there, there was an uproar and a search began. Your aunt and uncle claimed never to have set eyes on you, although we are almost positive that they lied." David stared at the man, "what was my name?" "Harry James Potter, and you were born on July 31st 1986," "You're not telling me something. If that's true, then I deserve to know the rest." "Do you believe me, then?" Dumbledore asked. David, or Harry (as he was unsure) turned his emerald green eyes on the man, looked him up and down and then met his eyes. Dumbledore was surprised to see the color fade from the green to a piercing blue, much like his own, and then a black depth of nothing, before returning to the emerald green that had cast tears into their eyes fifteen years ago, "Yeah," Harry said finally, "I guess I do." Dumbledore nodded sharply, "what I'm about to say will come as a bit of a shock to you, Harry, so please don't scream or do anything crazy." "I've always found that just spitting things out is the easiest way," Harry supplied helpfully. "You're a wizard." Instead of passing out or screaming or doing something crazy, Harry just laughed, "Sure, and the Pope is a Wiccan!" Dumbledore blinked, "No, really?" "Wizards don't exist. Magic doesn't exist. What does exist is what I can see - Oh shit!" He fell silent after his curse, when he saw purple sparks fly out of the stick, "can you make that flower into something else?" he asked after a moment. The older man nodded and with a wave of his wand, it was floating in the air and then had been turned into a chair. Harry nodded, "Alright, so Magic exists. How do you know I'm a wizard, then?" "Have you ever done something that isn't really possible, that someone said was weird?" Thinking for a moment, Harry shrugged, "not that I can remember." "Well, you have," Dumbledore said brightly, "we have records of all magic produced by every magical being." "So," Harry said slowly, "if you have records, how come you didn't come find me before now?" "Well," Dumbledore paled slightly, "we tried, but your location wasn't listed, and we couldn't recognize you." Harry shrugged, "So, you've told me all of this for a reason, I assume?" "You need to be educated, in magic." "What?" "You need to come to Hogwarts." "Why?" "Because you'll find people there who care about you and you'll find out about what you are." Harry shook his head, "Nope," he said firmly, "I'm going back on the streets, where I belong-" "No," Dumbledore frowned, "you belong here, and you know it." "Here?" "Where else did you think you were?" "A hospital!" "You are." Frowning confusedly Harry glared at the man, "Here's the deal: I don't want to be a wizard. I don't want the fame that you're implying comes from defeating the man and I sure as hell don't want to have to deal with weirdo's all the time." Dumbledore stared at him for a few moments and frowned, "I'll have to think about how to deal with this, but nobody can force you to stay - except Sirius." "How?" "He's your godfather, and no; he won't force you if you don't want to stay." Harry nodded, "than you go think about it, and I'll go back to sleep before I finally realize that I've finally gone insane and Esselte actually won." 


End file.
